Second Burn
by Slocut
Summary: It was about more than angels and demons. Sam and Dean find hidden entries to their father's journal. The boys never considered that the pagan religions had their own legend for the end of days and their own breed of hunter. Determined to piece together their missing memories they find another family destined to take their place on judgement day.
1. Chapter 1

prologue

It had been too easy, he could see that now. Seven young men and boys had been killed in less than a month, the locations marking a path toward the east coast. All the boys had been fist born sons of devout Christian families. The victims were found strangled, hearts removed from their bodies . Following the newspaper and television reports it had been clear to John that this was supernatural. He had packed up his sons and headed out of their mangy hotel in Tennessee and headed to the town the last body was recovered. The latest victim had been the nine year old son of a preacher. When they arrived in the town he could feel the panic in the population. Parks stood empty, no children rode their bikes in the street. Strangers who would have been welcomed weeks before were viewed with suspicion. Checking into a dark strip motel, he gave his boys the usual speech.

"Lock the doors, keep the shades down, don't answer the door, and Dean, keep an eye on Sammy. He is your responsibility. Something gets in, shoot first ask questions later." "If you don't hear from me in 48 hours, call Pastor Jim."

Dean nodded once and herded his younger brother to the television passing him the remote control. John had felt his youngest son's eyes on him but he never looked up.

Research had led John to believe that a Boggart, a fear demon could be responsible. Boggarts were unique in that they changed shape into the thing most feared by their intended victims. They did not possess humans as swarm demons did, and they could be killed with a silver blade much like many of the monsters they hunted. He packed his bag from the arsenal in his trunk and headed to the church at the center of town. The demon would not leave the area until the boy was buried. They fed on the fear of the victim, then the grief of the family. The funeral was in the morning.

John tracked the demon signs to the storage shed behind the rectory. He surrounded it with a thick salt line, and stepped over it to finish the monster before he could kill again. A small voice in his head warned him this seemed way to easy.

As John walked into the small building the demon morphed into the shape of tall thin man, with glowing yellow eyes. He faced John with a mocking smile. Without a word John raised his sawed off shotgun and blew salt shot into the demons chest, causing it to fly back against the wall screeching. John advanced on the demon, pulling out a silver blade and a flask of holy water.

"Winchester!" it laughed. "You are John Winchester!"

John raised his eyes, stunned the demon knew him by name.

"This was so easy, You have no clue do you? We lured you here and you fell into our trap. My brother stalks your lovely children as we speak"

John tossed holy water at the demon before advancing with the knife.

"He is with your boys by now. How lucky we are that Dean fears your disapproval more than any monster. My brother will be wearing your form, I'm sure poor Dean let his Daddy in." The demon said bursting into laughter. "I wonder if the boy will think it is you killing him, how I would love to see his face."

John felt panic rip through his chest.

" Don't worry about little Sam, we won't harm a hair on his precious head. He is, after all, one of us." the demon said slyly. "We will hold him until it is time for him to be called to his destiny. He will be the savior of us all!"

Black putrid blood oozed out of the demon's mouth as John buried the silver blade into its neck.

O0o00o0o0o0o0o

Dean opened the motel door, and the tall figure of John Winchester pushed in.

"Where is Sam." he said sternly, scanning the room with his eyes.

"Shower." Dean said, locking the door. "Getting that kid to wash is like pulling teeth."

Dean turned toward his Dad and stepped back when he saw the look of fury etched across John's face.

"Dad, did something go wrong? Are you OK?"he said, continuing to back away.

"You know what you did." John ground out, advancing on his son while pulling a wicked blade from the sheath at his waist.

"Dad. I..." Deans voice choked off as he was pushed against the thin motel wall. He began to fight in earnest against the hand wrapping around his throat. He raised his arm to block the blade his father swung at his chest. Blood sprayed from the defensive wound on his forearm.

Sam heard something hit the wall as he dried off and bent to pull on the sweatpants he would sleep in. He heard Dean's frantic voice but could not make out the words. He was surprised that his Dad would have come back so quickly, but Dean wouldn't have let anyone else into the motel room. If Dean was upset there was little doubt his Dad had been drinking. When he was drunk this early it was always bad. He steeled himself for the long night ahead.

He pushed the door open to see his brother being choked against the wall by a leering clown. He felt his stomach drop at the horrifying sight. Nothing scared him like clowns, but at fourteen he kept that to himself.

He looked toward the duffel bag between the beds, crept forward and pulled out the glock 19. He had trained with the gun for years and it felt comforting in his hand. He quickly grabbed the clip and it slid in with an audible click. He spun and sighted Dean's tormentor in one fluid motion, unloading six shots into its back.

Dean saw an astonished look on his father's face as he jerked, the knife raised to strike at him again. The blade slipped from his hand and the man slowly turned toward the shooter, staggering forward.

Sammy had shot their father, Dean thought, this couldn't be happening! Dean was stunned to see his brother reloading a clip into the semiautomatic. Sam raised it again and emptied it into the man's chest. Dean saw his father learching forward as Sam scooted backward over the bed to avoid a grasping arm.

"NO Sammy!" Dean yelled, heading for his Dad.

All eyes turned to the door as it was kicked in and slammed against the wall. John Winchester burst in, shotgun in his right hand, silver blade in his left. He raised the gun and fired at the figure stalking Sam. In a split second John dropped the gun and tossed the knife at the stunned figure, impaling its forehead. It dropped like a stone, sparks sizzling around the wound.

"Dad?" Dean said looking between the two men who appeared to be his father. He finally felt the pain in his arm, and looked down to see blood flowing freely, dripping of his hand and soaking his jeans. He pushed himself back retreating against the wall as the second John Winchester came for him. Dean felt the room spin as the man reached him. He didn't feel his father catch him as he pitched forward unconscious.

"Sam, throw me the towel and get the med kit." John said calmly. Sam had no clue how John's insides were twisting.

John dropped Dean onto the bed He ran his hands over the boy looking for injuries before pressing the towel against the deep cut on his arm.

"Put the gun down Sammy, come help me with your brother." "Hold pressure on that" he said looking down at the bloody towel.

John walked to his bag and pulled out a new bottle of Jack Daniels, he twisted off the top and had Sam pull back the towel so he could pour it over the wound. Better to do it with the boy asleep, John thought. Sam reapplied the pressure as John pulled out the needle and thread preparing to close the gaping wound. He threw the threaded needle into a plastic cup and poured some of the whiskey over it.

" You did that Sammy?" John said inclining his head toward the body on the floor.

Sammy looked at his dad and nodded,

"You did good boy." John said, pulling back the towel to begin stitching.

o0o0o0o0o0o

John Winchester exhaled heavily as the Impala slid up Coastal Route 1. The hunt should never have gone the way it did. His boy had been injured.

Looking to his left he saw his sleeping fourteen year old son leaning against the passenger's door, head resting on his fathers wadded up coat. The boy had just had his first kill. Lifting his eyes to the rear view mirror he ran his eyes over his eighteen year old boy sprawled out across the back seat, left arm flung over his eyes to keep out the passing head lights. The boy's right arm was cradled against his belly, the white bandages wrapped around it a beacon in the dark interior.

He rubbed his hand across his eyes, remembering what the demon had said about Sam.

They were headed north. For years he had heard whispers of a reclusive psychic who lived secluded in Maine. Rumor said that she practiced no witchcraft, the gift was passed down her line for centuries. She had been known to help hunters. He needed to find the woman and get the truth.

o0o0o0o0o

Esme saw it in a waking dream. The end was coming. The cursed ones were coming and she would look upon their faces. Prophesy was written generations ago of this day and the days that would follow.

The old woman unwrapped an aging book bound in pale leather, cautiously turning the pages until she found the passage.

_AND A MAN SHALL COME OF HIS OWN WILL WITH QUESTIONS , LEADING THE CURSED ONES. THEIR GREEN GAZE SHALL CAPTIVATE OUR YOUTH, TURNING THEM FROM THE PATH . THE DEVILS WILL FEEL OUR PRESENCE, THE ANCIENT WILL CONVERGE TO TEST OUR FAITH. FYLGJA, GUARD WELL OUR DAUGHTERS, FOR IF THE CURSED COMPELL THE CHOSEN, THE SECOND BURN WILL DEVOUR THE EARTH._

Esme sent for her grand daughter. It was time to pass on the White Book, a chronicle of their family, to the one who would finish it. She considered taking the boy child with her, he was not part of the prophesies. It would upset the girl, there was no harm in leaving him. She frowned as she added her final entry.

She had hoped, years ago, this would all fall to her. When she had no daughters she was sure. It wasn't meant to be.

The old woman knew with a certainty that she could not save her family by eliminating the coming threats. These boys were the cornerstone of the first burn. They were instruments of the celestials. Only after the smoke cleared from the abject destruction they would to cause, could her young ones take their place and save what was left.

She sensed the fylgja hovering in the shadows. Good.

A lovely young girl stood in the darkened hall, sensing the older woman's fear. She flexed her hands, testing the strength of her chosen form. She had adapted this form for years, carefully mimicking the aging process of her human charge. Her purpose now was to protect the chosen one, as it had been to protect her mother, and as it will be to protect her daughters. She had been bestowed on this family a hundred generations ago, always with the knowledge that this line would put an end to the last of the ancients. They would survive the end of days, the first burn of the earth. The One would step forward to represent the humans left to rebuild. The second burn would come, and gloriously, order would be restored.

The cursed could not be allowed to sully their purpose. She could not kill them, they were destined to destroy themselves. It was written. They would come, ask their questions and go. She would see to it.


	2. Chapter 2

The bag of half melted ice slid off the sleeping man's face landing with a thump onto his lap, jarring him awake. He felt the comforting thrum of the tires beneath him before he grabbed the bag to shake it and place it back on the throbbing swelling over his right eye. He cautiously rolled his head toward the driver, noting the dried streak of blood starting at the man's scalp running behind his ear, where it had soaked the neck and shoulder of his well worn gray t-shirt.

"You good?" Dean said, watching his brother adjust his ice pack

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes at the stupid question. "So are we calling that a shape shifter or a witch? I don't think we have research on anything like that, There is something just unnatural about a monster that bleeds yellow. " Sam said, tossing the bloody towel resting between them into the back seat.

"I'm calling it dead." Dean said with a smirk. "Nothing like that in Dad's journal. Makes you wonder if the guys down stairs are putting out some new models, recycling with spare parts."

"I could use Bobby's books right now, too bad they are 10 hours away and in the opposite direction . Where are we now?" Sam asked with a squint, looking out the Impala's window for any highway sign.

"Maryland, north on I 95. Figured we would stop once we hit Connecticuit." Dean said, reaching under his seat for a cassette, hoping to pull out Metallica. AC/DC came out instead, good enough, he thought plugging it in.

"I was thinking, we could take a detour to Dad's storage unit in NY, see if he has any books we could use, this stuff is just too obscure to research on the internet." Sam said, sitting up higher in the seat, tossing down his ice pack.

" NY it is then" Dean said

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

The impala rolled to a stop behind Castle Storage. Wordlessly the boys got out and circled to the trunk, each scanning the parking lot before pulling out their weapon of choice. Dean pulled a semi automatic glock, checking the clip before he shoved in his waistband at his back, Sam, a well used sawed off shotgun he loaded and rested against his right leg. Both silently remembered their last visit here, the confrontation with Zachariah, angel of the Lord. Dean half smiled remembering putting down the bastard a few short weeks after. Good riddens.

Sam raised the door cautiously. Dean headed in with military precision, Sam following to cover him. Back to back they scanned the room, listening for any sign of a hidden threat before reaching to switch on the lights. A devil's trap covered the empty floor dispersed with blood stains. Shelves lined the walls holding warded boxes containing cursed objects. Land mines and weapons hung against the wall to their left, a casket draped in a flag to their right.

"Lets get to it." Dean said, returning his gun to his waist band.

Dean surveyed the weapons stored on the wall, weighing the option of taking a few with them while Sam began to open the few boxes on the back corner. Minutes later Sam resigned himself to the fact that there were no books stored here, this little detour had apparently been a waste of time. He stood, wiping the dust on his hands onto his shirt and turned to his brother.

"Nothing." Sam stated scanning the shelves for anything resembling a book.

"S'ok, lets lock it up." Dean said, pulling a particularly vicious blade from the wall, testing its weigh with a smile.

"Whats with the coffin? Doesn't seem like something Dad would keep." Sam said, pulling off the flag draping it and tossing it on to the shelf. A mushroom cloud of dust exploded into the room.

Sam fumbled with the lock and lifted the half lid as Dean moved closer, still fondling the jeweled handle dagger he had decided to take with them. It looked like old tarnished copper, he didn't think they had a copper blade in the trunk. He wasn't sure what it killed, but if Dad had kept it, it killed something. Deans eyes rose to his brother then dropped into the coffin as he stored the blade in his belt.

Sam reached into the coffin pulling out several ancient looking books bound in leather, passing them to Dean who disregarded them on a near by bench.

"Jackpot." Sam said with a smile. "Dead language, gotta love it."

Two casette tapes in cracked plastic boxes were pulled out next, one marked Deano. Sam's eyebrows raised as he snickered and said "DEANO?" passing them behind him. "

What? Thats not me, come on." Dean stated in an embarrassed voice.

A molding miniature teddy bear lay in the coffin like a corpse, it had masking tape wrapped around its chest with the name ROCKO written on it. A tag was tied to its arm. TO: SAM FROM: ROBIN

Strange, Sam thought...Robin, he couldn't place it but something nagged at him. He tried to stuff the bear in his jacket pocket but when it didn't fit, he tossed it back into the casket. Sam opened the opposite end of the casket and saw it was empty, but before he closed the lid he noticed the padding at the bottom was bulging. Folding it back easily, he pulled out two flat duct tape wrapped bundles.

" Whats that? Arts and crafts?" Dean said flipping the packages over looking for any clue to their contents. " These come with us." he said., "the Deano cassette and its buddy can stay here."

Dean deposited the offending plastic boxes on the shelf and walked away.

" Yah, right" Sam said slamming the casket shut, spreading the flag back over it. Covertly he picked up the two casettes and jammed them into his back pocket, just dying to hear what was on them. He hoped whatever it was he could use it to antagonize his brother for months to come. Even better he would save the info to use the next time they were in a practical joke war. Ya, that would be sweet.

"What are you smiling at?" Dean said popping the trunk and replacing the guns in the arsenal before tossing his blade on top and slamming it shut.

" Two packages and you got a new toy, just like Christmas" Sam said with a grin.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO O

Three hours on the highway found them pulling into dank lime green painted motel in Milford Connecticut, chosen for its "free wireless internet" sign. Dean went in to pay for a room while Sam jumped into the drivers seat offering to head out for supplies. As he pulled out of the parking lot he ejected AC/DC and pulled out the Deano tape with a wide smile.

The tape was obviously home made, low quality. He heard a woman's voice addressing his Dad.

"Hey John, its me. Just filling you in on the boys, they are doing fantastic. They train with the kids most of the day and then they hit the lake at night, they're working hard. Sammy has a real talent for fencing, he is amazing! He is going to do a tournament this week with my kids, if any of them win the New England tournament is right in Pourtsmouth, I'll take them down. The reason that I'm using the tape is I wanted you to hear Dean. He started playing around with my guitar after you left, picked it up super fast. He would never let me tape him, but I'm gonna do it on the sly. Don't tell him! I'm so proud of him and I figured you would be too. Hope you are being safe, Vosh is hovering here behind me, she says HI. The boys miss you and so does she..."(a scuffle could be heard in the background with laughter) A second lightly accented voice chimed in, "I do miss you Papa Bear.."

Sam cringed...Papa Bear? his Dad? no, that was so wrong.

"Ok my friend, the next thing you hear will be Deano, See you in a few weeks...you know where we are." oh... I sent a picture of the kids, proof they are training. I'm a slave driver, ask anyone.

After a pause and some interference Sam could hear kids talking and kidding around, a muffled voice could be heard that he was sure was Dean, then music. The guitar was simple but clear, a woman's voice started to sing with it, then two... then...Dean. Wait... this was so familiar. He could almost picture it, it was just on the edge of his mind... Dean was singing? He was on key! Impossible. This was alternate universe kind of crazy. Anxiety pooled in his chest. He pulled out the cassette and jammed it back into his pocket. As soon as he had some time away from his brother was going to listen to the other one. He popped the AC/DC tape back into the deck, Back in Black blasted. For once he found it comforting.

O0o0o0o0o0

Sam wandered into a dive near the water. He walked to the back and ordered for them, then sat down with a two dollar draft to wait. He thought about what he heard on the cassette and decided he needed to hit the liquor store before he headed back to the Motel.


	3. Chapter 3

1994

Silver and yellow wallpaper, orange carpet with ominous stains, the Festival Motel looked as good as it smelled. They had stayed in worse. At least they weren't squatting in some abandoned house, they had cable and electricity, hopefully hot water.

Dean's arm was itchy so he peeled off the bandage tugging at the stitches. Twenty eight, hardly a record. He pulled open the window letting in the smell of the ocean, there was no beach to speak of but if he and Sammy walked to the end of the block and crossed the street there was a rocky decline to the water. There was a bar that served food on the corner, better to take Sam there then try to eat in a room that smelled of wet dog and mold.

Their Dad had gone out on a supply run. That most likely meant a stop for whiskey and ammunition.

Dean rifled through the box of fake Ids to find one to make him 21, he was pretty sure his Dad wouldn't begrudge him a beer or two while he scammed the locals at pool. At seventeen he could pass for a young looking 21, especially with a military ID. They would wait for his Dad then head out to make some cash.

John and the boys walked into the bar. It was typical of a hundred bars they had been in, booths around the walls and tables dispersed across the floor. Pool tables filled the left side of the room, about half of them in use.

There was a mix of people,some who were dressed like tourists along with some rough looking locals. At the end of the bar there were four or five women who appeared just about old enough to drink. Their laughter drowned out the music.

A few couples obviously half in the bag were dancing in the middle of the room which was way too small for a dance floor. John nodded toward the booth at the corner, the spot they always picked. Defensively it was the smartest move. Sam headed there without a second thought as Dean and John headed to the bar to book a pool table and scope out potential targets.

John asked for whiskey, and asked the bartender to leave the bottle. Dean ordered a beer and was slightly miffed to get carded. John was oblivious to the lovely dark haired woman at the bar who stared at him. Dean leaned into his dad and whispered a few words to him. John turned to the young woman and he acknowledged her with a single nod, then turned his attention back to the whiskey. Dean smiled at her and she raised her eyebrows at the younger man and looked away.

"Joy, food's ready." the bartender said loud enough to be heard over the music.

A fit little blonde with way too much hair reached over the bar to grab two large brown bags that she set down while rooting around for her cash. Her face was obscured from his angle, but then again he wasn't really looking at her face. She dropped two twenties on the bar and thanked the smiling older man. Dean was surprised to see her toss back two shots on the bar before she got up to leave.

"Coming Vosh? She said to the dark haired woman.

"I think I'll stay." the brunette said, gesturing toward John's back.

The blonde smiled and slid off the bar stool. As she attempted to make her way around the tables to the door a nondescript local stepped in front of her and offered to take the bags for her. She politely declined and tried to step around him. He stepped in front of her again and took the bags, placing them on one of the tables, then attempted to lead her toward the dancing. The woman jerked as if struck when he grabbed her bare upper arm.

"Quit it Jake, you've had too much... again." she said to the man.

When he didn't immediately let go she grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her, she then slid her foot behind him and pushed, knocking him on his ass. The man's drinking buddies burst into laughter as she grabbed her bags and stepped out of the bar.

Dean noticed the furious man slide out of the bar behind her. As he stood up to follow them out, the brunette slid into the chair next to John. Dean was pretty sure she would be disappointed.

The parking lot had darkened, but the street lights made it easy enough to find your way. In the far corner of the empty lot Dean saw the blonde throwing her bags in the back of her truck. As she opened her drivers door he saw the local step out of the shadows and lift her off her feet from behind. He turned her and mashed her against the side of the truck with his body. She arched away from the man pushing at his face.

"HEY!" Dean yelled advancing on the pair.

Before he could step in, the woman grabbed the man and headbutted him with a resounding crack. He stepped back stunned and she punched him dead in the face. He dropped like a rock. She then kicked him in the side causing him to roll onto his back. As the man looked up at her she kicked him again.

"I TOLD you to cut it out Jake! If you put your hands on me again I'm gonna have to hurt you." She said matter of factly.

Dean stood a few yards from the pair, and she spun defensively to face him. He took a step back, palms forward.

"Just trying to help, but I see you have it handled." Dean said, turning his face toward the man when he let out a piteous moan. "Very nice by the way." he added with his most charming smile.

"Oh ya? Which part?" she said getting into the truck with a smirk.

"Well, ninja chicks are hot." he said still trying the charm.

She laughed and hopped back to the ground.

"Joy." she said holding a hand out.

"Dean." he replied.

As their hands touched, images of the young man slammed into her head, painful horrifying agonizing images. She looked into his face, half expecting to see him tearing at his skin to put out the fire she felt around him. He just smiled, oblivious. Poor poor man, she thought.

Energy built up inside her suddenly. She hadn't been prepared to read him, but his aura was so strong that his fate tore into her consciousness. The doors of every car in the lot swung open, one hitting her in the back, shoving her forward. She stumbled into Dean and he caught her around the waist, as car alarms began blaring around them. She sprung back into a standing position, a blade appearing in each hand. She dropped into a defensive crouch and spun in a practiced circle. Wait, she wondered, did SHE do that? No, she didn't have that kind of power.

"What the fuck? Dean spat out, scanning the area for demon sign or some type of spirit.

"I...uh, ya that was weird...It was real nice to meet you Dean but I think its time for me to fly." "Thanks for ,well, almost playing the hero." She said, sliding into the truck before heading out of the parking lot.

Dean turned to see his brother about twenty feet behind him, watching the scene unfold. He could tell by the look on his fave that Sam was mildly disgusted. Dean went missing... as usual with a girl, while he was left to deal with a drinking sullen father.

"Food arrived." Sam said, before making a screwed up face. "Some woman is dancing at Dad, I think he likes it."

"AT him? Oh, I gotta see this." Dean said stepping over the unconscious man heading back for the bar.

NOW

Driving into the motel parking lot Sam noted how familiar it seemed. It wasn't of course, not really. The places blend together after so many years on the road. It beat squatting. At least there would be hot water.

He parked against the room door and grabbed the food he had picked up for them. He was pretty sure the car would smell of onions in the morning and Dean would bitch. But then again, he would bitch if he didn't get his extra onion too.

"Hey, nice to see you again boy!" an older woman said rushing to Sam's side. "I wouldn't have recognized you because you got so tall. All grown up! But that car and your brother, they haven't changed." Still eating the diner food I see, doesn't seem to be doing you any harm," she said patting him heartily on the shoulder before wandering back toward the offices.

"Ya, so nice to see you again too." Sam said to the crazy older woman. He had never seen her before. He waved and made a b-line for the door. She made him squirm.

Unlocking the door Sam saw that Dean was still in the shower, but he just couldn't wait to get into the packages from the storage unit. The new copper knife got its first use as he sawed at the old duct wrapped packages.

The pouches split open and Sam slid the contents onto the table. He spread the discolored paper out with his palm, and was stunned into silence. Pages upon pages of his Dad's journal had been wrapped and hidden away in the storage unit. Yellowing pictures were dispersed in the pages. Sam didn't know where to start.

He rifled through Dean's bag and grabbed his Dad's journal and opening it to the date written on the top of the pile. September 24, 1996. There was nothing. The next entry in the journal was in late November. These pages had been deliberately removed. Maybe Dad hadn't thought they were important? But why hide them?

He scrolled through the loose pages on the table, checking the stack from the second bundle he saw that the dates were from 2003, when he was in Stanford. The pages were written in Dean's hand. That made no sense. They almost never added to the journal, and there was a block that seemed to more than a month, almost two.

Dean came out of the bathroom followed by a puff of steam, a wet towel draped over his shoulder.

"Hey, you wont believe this," Dean said. " This crazy old woman grabbed me in the parking lot and started chatting me up like it was old home week. The ladies love me, young and old. I just wish I could bottle this charisma Sammy. MILLIONS! We would make millions. Something smells good." He said, oblivious to Sam's interest in the material in front of him.

"So what have we got?" "Tell me there is pie. Of course there is, I mean, you never forget the pie...do you Sammy? Hey. You forgot the pie didn't you... SAM!" Dean pulled a clean tee over his head and turned to look at his distracted brother. He wanted food, whiskey and sleep. In that order. Now.

"Come check this out." Sam said to Dean.

Taking a seat next to his brother at the table Dean looked at the pages, surprised. "I guess Dad thinned out the journal." Dean said beginning to pick through the pictures. "Where's the food?"

Dean lifted a picture and held it to the light coming through the window behind him. His eyes narrowed as he saw himself, somewhere in his late teens, arms around a young Sammy and a tall dark haired boy. The boys were in some kind of white weird costumes with some kind of masks near their feet. Sam's hand rested on a trophy almost as tall as he was.

"You remember that?" Dean said, handing the pic to Sam.

"Uhhh no, not at all." Sam replied.

Dean could see writing on the back of the photo and took it back from Sam. 'October 1, 1996. Fencing champion of greater New England, Sam Winchester. Fastest learner ever. Xo xo Joy.'

Dean handed the picture back to Sam, he read the script and looked back at his brother confused.

"This never happened." Sam said.

Sam whipped out his lap top and googled Greater New England Fencing Championships 1996. Two articles came up. He clicked on the first link and was stunned to see a picture of his 14 year old self holding a massive trophy surrounded by about a dozen other kids.

_Sam Winchester, 14, of the FIGHTING CHALLENGE studio in Yourk Harbor , Maine was named Greater New England fencing champion for 1997, he will advance to the national competition in Sparta, PA on December 7th. Also advancing will be Mikos Delsani 13, and Tamar Noir- Delsani 13, both of York. Congratulations to Fighting Challenge martial arts studio whose members claimed six of the top ten spots in the competition._

Sam turned the screen to Dean who read the brief write up. "This is crazy." Dean said.

The boys began to pull out the pages with pictures attached, finding six in the first pile and three in the second. There was not one of them that either man remembered. A sick feeling settled over Dean. Something had messed with their memories or something was planning to. This stunk of Angels, but that made no sense.

Lifting a picture of himself he turned it over and saw from the date he would be twenty four. He was wrapped around a smiling blonde holding out a pair of tickets in front of her toward the camera. Providence Civic Center could be seen on the sign above them. He noticed his hand was splayed against her belly possessively pulling her back against him, he was making a weird face and tossing a peace sign. Turning it over he read the short script. _METTALICA, road trip wooooo. _The writing was not his own.

"Is that studio place listed in the article still there in Maine?" Dean said.

Sam found the information on the web in less than a minute. He turned the screen to Dean. The website showed a large plain building with a glass front. He clicked on the staff link and paused. He looked at the picture of the owner. The face from the photo he held looked back at him. Joy Noir Delsani, the name said. The woman looked the same, exactly the same as she had nine years ago. Something was not right. Maybe it was an old picture, he thought, people did it on the internet all the time. This woman could fill in the missing pieces and he would be damned if he would let this go.

"I'll find out what I can, when do you want to head out?" Sam said

"Maybe morning." Dean said, distracted, beginning to read through the pages, wondering why his Dad decided to hide them.

He had lost his appetite and picked at his food. He was so distracted he almost forgot the pie. Almost.

O-o-o-oo-o-o

Sam slept fitfully. For the first time in years he had dreams so vivid they reminded him of his visions from yellow eyes,


	4. Second Burn chapter 4

1994

John had abandoned them. Dean didn't know what was worse, the fact that he was herded off with Sam to the kiddy table or that the hot ninja chick from the night before didn't recognize him. Come on, how could she not recognize him!

She had brushed past them on the way out of the room his father was shut into with the old psychic. Last night she had thanked him...as he vaguely remembered, the word HERO had been mentioned. It was dark though...but not that dark.

"I need to talk here Dean, head to the gym with this young lady and she will lead you to the owner. Keep your brother busy. Be ready to go when I'm done." John had said, dismissing them.

The woman he followed didn't speak, and certainly wasn't much to look at. God, he hoped this would be quick. His arm was stinging and he was sore from sleeping in the car. He felt an overall crappy mood creeping up on him.

Dean followed the young instructor into the gym, Sam followed dejectedly, disinterest and misery evident in his body language. At the back of the cavernous room a group of eight teens sat on a mat watching two fencers. They danced forward and back, movements sharp and aggressive.

A young woman who appeared to be in charge paced along the wall. HAH! Dean thought. It was the chick hitting on his Dad. He felt a tiny bit of satisfaction knowing that John would be equally uncomfortable with this place once he came to get them. What was her name...Something weird...Vosh, that was it.

"NO NO , Tamar, how many times do I have to tell you? Right shoulder down left shoulder back . EXTEND! Turn into the thrust it narrows the target!... now AGAIN!" she shouted.

They were led around the group to Joy. This time when she turned to greet them she looked straight at Dean's face then Sam's. She extended her hand but pulled it back. You are one of the "children" I am going to orient here today? You are really a very well rounded young man. Teen by day hero by night.

Dean smiled. He knew she didn't just forget him. Sam tried to melt into the carpet, turning away from what he knew would become his brother shamelessly flirting with someone out of his league. He shut out their conversation and scoped out the building. Dean joined him and pretended interest in what the woman was saying. His real interest was the fit of her yoga pants. Very nice.

Children about Sam's age were calling out forms in the center of the room. Dean was not impressed by marshal arts. Karate was for pretty boys who couldn't take a punch, so he disregarded them. A climbing wall was built into one corner of the room, unused, the red tethers stark against the chipped yellow paint. A sparring area was taped off to the left, a small class was observing two of its members attempting to beat each other to the ground. Two rooms opened off the back wall. The boys could see people milling around in each but couldn't tell what was going on in them.

Dean turned as the fencing instructor bellowed again at the combatants. Both removed their wire mesh masks and placed their foils on the floor, they approached each other to shake hands and stepped away. Another two stood up and picked up the equipment, and an new competition began. Dean saw the two fencers approached their tour guide. The boy was smiling, the girl sullen.

"Looking good guys." Joy said to the kids with a smile.

"Thanks Maman, the boy said, wiping sweat off his head with his sleeve. The girl just sighed and reached back to pull her wet hair off her neck then turned her so Joy could unzip the back of her fencing jacket.

"Dean and Sam, meet Mikos and Tamar." the young woman said. "Are you two done fencing for today? We have the climbing wall in about ten minutes. If you are too tired one of you can feel free to watch your sister, she seems to be getting under Grandmere's skin." she said ruffling the boy's damp hair.

"Hey, I'm Mikos, but you can call me Mike. Holding out a hand to Dean then Sam. Are you guys signing up?" the boy said, a genuine smile on his face.

"Passing through, our Dad is having a meeting with Esme, they sent us in to check the place out." Dean said.

"Come do the rock wall, its a blast," Mike said. "Hey," he said facing Sam, "Come check out the obstacle course Gran is having built in the back, Its SICK." Sam shrugged and followed him.

"Whats your plan Tamar?" Joy said smiling at the girl.

The young girl walked up to Dean, stepped a little too far into his personal space and stared directly into his face. Dean leaned his back slightly.

"Your eyes are green." she said flatly to Dean, "His eyes are green." she repeated looking at Joy.

"OH NO! Dean said in mock horror. "When did that happen!"

"And you think you're funny...awesome." she said before turning and walking away. "I'll watch Rob so Gran doesnt kill her." the girl tossed over her shoulder.

"Your sister?" Dean said to Joy.

"My daughter." She said amused. "And Mikos is my son."

"You serious?" he said eyebrows raised.

"Deadly." she said with a smile. " I heard your Dad tell Gran you hurt your arm, don't feel like you need to get in to anything today, its all for fun anyway."

" Its only stitches, I'll live." Dean said removing his jacket. " I'm up for the wall if you are." he said.

O0o0o0o0o0o

NOW

Sam and Dean rolled up in front of a plain cinder block building surrounded by eight foot fence. The parking lot was full of soccer moms picking up their children. A curvy twenty something woman held the door and ushered the last middle school student to the parking lot. She pried a clingy young girl off her waist and handed her to her father in a beat up red van.

"Is that her? There is no way! She looks like the one with you in the picture!" Sam said.

"Not her." Dean said with assurance.

"How can you say that?" Sam replied.

"No chemistry. I wouldn't...well, I just wouldn't. She is too young anyway." Dean replied, looking away.

"A little too much meat on the bone? You are shallow Dean. You know that don't you?" Sam mocked.

"Yes." Dean said unrepentantly.

The men waited in the Impala for the last car to leave. The creepy man in the red van was obviously trying to make conversation with the poor woman. She backed slowly away from the car as he continued to talk. She escaped when she pretended to answer her cell phone with a wave and slid back into the building. He drove off with a goofy smile, clearly impressed with his efforts.

Sam pulled out the photo of the owner that he had printed off the internet. He handed it to Dean, who shook his head and stuffed it in his pocket.

Sam entered the building first. The first thing he noticed was the glass block floor around the edge of the floor. There was a thick layer of white showing through beneath the green tinted tiles.

"Salt?" he said to Dean.

Dean lifted his eyebrows, silently impressed at the ingenious idea. He checked over the cavernous room with renewed interest, spying a border of wards carved along the window sill. Anti Demon, anti angel, Hoo Doo, Mayan, so many more. To an untrained eye it would appear to be an ornate edging. Just part of the woodwork. Dean knew better.

He would bet the water dispensers had a splash of holy water in them. They must be hunters he thought, becoming more confused than ever.

A petite brunette barreled in behind them walking directly into Sam's back. He turned to apologize and she smiled, until she spied Dean. Her face went white and she stumbled backward.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Dean said.

"What? No, No I don't think so." The woman said quickly recovering.

The young woman from the front of the building came out of the office with a petite blonde. They both looked up and approached.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" The blonde said to the pair."

"Are you Joy Delsani?" Dean asked.

"Yes I am."

"Do we know each other?" Dean pressed.

"What?" the woman replied...suddenly wary. "Vosh, can you take Robin in the back please." she said stepping in front of the younger woman.

"Vosh?" Sam spat out. "You knew my father! John Winchester. I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. You knew us about twelve years ago."

"I don't know your father. I don't know any John Winchester." She insisted.

"You called him papa bear."

"Papa bear?" Dean replied astounded.

"I'll explain later." Sam promised.

Dean pulled out the picture of the Metallica road trip, handing it to the woman. She looked down at it then at Dean. It was clear to see she had no clue how to explain the photo.

"Maybe we should step into my office." Joy said. "You two,cancel classes for the rest of the day and lock up." She said to the other two women.

"No way." the youngest woman said. Sam watched her slowly reach into her hoodie pocket. He knew without a doubt that this was going to lead to a confrontation they didn't want.

"Please, don't do that." He said to the young woman. "We just want the truth, then we will go."

"Clear the building." She insisted to the brunette. She nodded and locked the front door flipping the sign.

"I'm calling Mikos." She stated before turning away to follow her instructions.

"Obstacle course everyone!" She said to the small group of assembled children. They all ran to the back entrance excitedly. The kids herded out in less than a minute. A slide bolt slid shut from the outside with a decided thud.

"I have some things you need to see." Dean stated.

The woman held her hand out and accepted the duct taped packages.

"Robin Delsani." The younger woman said, reaching a hand to Sam. Joy pushed it back down, assuring there would be no physical contact.

"Little sister?" Dean said, believing he saw a little of his protective nature in the woman.

"Daughter." She replied.

"Are you serious?" Dean said.

"Deadly." She replied.

Dean and the woman locked eyes, both experiencing a rushing sense of deja vous.

"We need to talk." The woman stated flatly.


End file.
